Milk & Honey - Ch. 25
Austin!Elvis x Black!OC
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Summary: Elvis is determined not to give up on Honey
Warning: Swearing(?)
Song: Suspicious Minds - Elvis Presley
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I spend the next hours getting Charles and I ready for the show tonight. It’s the first time we’re going to be making an official public appearance , so I have no doubts that reporters will be there, ready to snap a picture of whatever controversy they’ll be wanting to spread for the night.
I dust eye shadow onto my lids while regretting every decision I’ve made today and still pretending not to miss it. I really don’t want to go, but the least I can do is support Elvis. We’re still friends, not to mention my baby’s daddy and only ride back to Memphis.
I arrive late, maybe on purpose, but mostly to avoid the crowd. Jerry meets us at the door and sneaks us in, sliding us past guests to an open table.
A chill runs through my body. The theater is huge and filled with people. Beautiful lights decorate the walls, illuminating the room in a majestic kind of way. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling and a giant golden curtain from the stage. I’ve never seen anything like it before. The atmosphere has such an intense energy, it’s enough to leave me feeling giddy despite all the thoughts that have been circulating my head.
I catch a glimpse of Elvis on stage, already halfway through his performance, while I hold Charles’ hand behind me. Elvis says something to his large band behind him, before turning back around towards the audience with a smile.
I find Marcella seated in the center of the theater, adorned in a beautiful dress, hair graceful and long down her back. She side eyes me as we walk past her table, as if to intimidate me with her silent glare, but it does little to bring me down. I’m done fighting in this war for a lost cause. She can win all she wants.
“We’re caught in a trap
I can’t walk out
Because I love you too much, baby”
Cheering intensifies as Elvis begins a new song. He dances around center stage in a white suit. He makes a few jokes, getting a kick out of making the audience laugh, giggle, and squeal, but then, he catches me walking through the crowd and an unsettling look replaces his smile.
“Why can’t you see
What you’re doing to me
When you don’t believe a word I say?”
Jerry places us at a table off to the side. I nervously take my seat next to Charles in the red booth. A waitress stops by, setting down two waters, lemon wedges on the side in front of the small yellow lantern in the middle of the table.
Charles immediately takes the glass and guzzles it down, droplets of water spilling down his face and onto the new button up his dad just bought him.
“Charles, baby, slow down. You’re gonna choke.” I say, trying to coax the glass from him before he hurts himself.
He sets it down, empty, letting out a loud ‘Ahh’, before taking the lemon off to taste it. His face instantly scrunches at the sour flavor and spits it out, the fruit tumbling across the table. He then reaches for my water to wash away the taste, and turns back to watch his father with my glass still in his hands.
Lord. Why do these boys insist on keepin’ me stressed? At least he keeps me sane through all this mess with his father.
I smirk, shaking my head at him, before looking to the stage.
When I look back up, I make eye contact with Elvis. He gulps loud enough that I hear it come through the speakers. His voice goes quieter, slowly spilling out the lyrics off beat to the music.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, almost anxious for him. What is he doing? Is something wrong?
“So if an old friend I know
Drops by to say hello
Would I still see suspicion in your eyes?
You can’t see the tears are real
I’m crying”
His face contorts into that of sadness, seeming choked up and authentically mimicking the words he’s singing. He attempts to acknowledge the audience, but with each line he sings, his eyes seem to drift back to me.
I give him a worried look, as if to ask if he’s okay. He only gives a hesitant half nod, before closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the song. His voice grows in volume once more, finally finding his rhythm again.
“We can’t go on together
With suspicious minds
And we can’t build our dreams
On suspicious minds”
He swings his arm in the air, dropping onto his knees, shouting passionately, but breathlessly into the microphone.
“Oh, let our love survive
I’ll dry the tears from your eyes
Let’s don’t let a good thing die
When, honey, you know I’ve never lied to you”
He looks me directly in my eyes. We’re so many feet apart, yet I still can’t help but feel so small and targeted under his gaze. He sings me the lyrics, reassuring me of their every word and meaning, begging for my understanding. On that stage, I see the boy I knew 10 years ago singing to me. The world against us, our lives at odds, while he painfully fights for our love, fights for my trust in the best way he knows how, through song.
The crowd uproars, standing to cheer for him. He walks towards the side of the stage, happily greeting fans by the stairs. He then disappears behind the now standing table in front of me.
I rise to my feet to try and glance over their heads to find him again. After seconds of searching, eventually I catch a glimpse of that sweat black swoop in his hair towering above the crowd.
Women throw themselves at him, screaming, touching him, grabbing him. He reaches down, planting quick kisses on their cheeks to satisfy them, making a certain feeling bubble in the pit of my stomach that I don’t like. He scans the crowd, desperately looking for something, before landing on me and stalking in my direction. In a room full of hundreds, he can only see me, and I him.
My stomach drops, unsure what his next move will be. I twiddle with my fingers in my spot, my heart beat quickening with every foot closer he gets. He sneaks past the audience, pushing past the crowd to the best of his ability until he’s standing directly in front of me, out of breath and sweat pouring from his skin.
The entire room now has their eyes on us, but mine can’t leave his. As I’m about to reach out and ask if he’s okay, he lifts a hand to cup my cheek, the other grasping onto my hand. In that moment, life seems to freeze around me, passing by slowly while my mind stays in a bubble of just him and I.
His voice echoes above all the rest of the other noise, being the only thing I can hear. “I love you, Bumble.” One camera flash. Then, he reaches down to capture my lips. Two camera flashes, three, four. I place my hands on his chest, fighting between pushing him away or pulling him closer, settling on the idea of doing absolutely nothing.
He leans away, leaving my lips to the cold air and my cheeks to the cool metal of his rings. He gives me a smirk, before being pulled into the mob of people by his manager.
My eyes meet The Colonel’s, an evil eye shot my way, pushing Elvis back towards the stage.
I’m equally embarrassed as I am madly in love. Elvis can make some dumb decisions sometimes, but boy, does he make his apologies grand.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and twist my head to see Jerry waving us to follow him. While the crowd is distracted by Elvis’ stage presence, we weave through the table and out the door before the photographers take notice of my absence. Jerry then escorts me backstage, where I find Colonel, Marcella, and Vernon, who I haven’t seen since the day Elvis left.
Vernon looks at me with cautious eyes, like he always did.
Charles walks over to him, “Hey, grandpa!”
“Hey, kid,” he greets back.
Marcella snaps back at the sound of their sudden voices echoing in the room, taking note that I’ve joined them now.
The second the curtains come down and Elvis gets off stage, Charles is running up to him. “That was great dad! I like the one move you did when you went-” He begins throwing his body around, making kick and swooshing noises, mimicking the dance moves he saw.
Elvis laughs, distractedly watching him, still trying to take peeks at me when he can.
Marcella is next to run over, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You were amazing out there, baby!” She says through her teeth, grasping on to every last drop of hope she can. She kisses him, but Elvis tries to pry himself away, only looking at me in the process.
I sigh. I have so many emotions swarming in my head right now, I don’t know what to make of anything anymore. I take what’s left of my dignity and turn around towards the exit. “Come on, Charles. We need to get back to our room,” I say, reaching for his hand.
I managed to escape the backstage area without running into any of Elvis’ fans or being followed by the man himself. Once upstairs,
Charles plops on the bed like he always does, but this time, he doesn’t bother to turn on the TV. He sits with a thoughtful face, staring into the patterns of the carpet. I drag my worn out body into the bathroom to remove my jewelry and step into my comfortable pajamas. “Why are you so sad, Ma?” He ponders aloud, swinging his legs off the edge of the mattress.
I sigh, grabbing a wet rag, turning off the light, and sitting next to him on the bed, his small body bouncing softly from my newly added weight on the springs. “There’s a lot been going on between Daddy and I, that’s all.” Is that already more than I should be saying to him? I gulp, nervously waiting for his reaction, while I slowly scrub eyeshadow from my lids.
“Like what?”
Oh, boy. “It’s nothin’, baby. Don’t worry about it.” I try to reassure him, but he ponders on.
“Do you still love him?”
I go quiet. “Well, yeah… of course…”
“What about Marcella?” He asks with furrowed brows.
I stare off into the distance with a sigh. “I don’t know, baby. I do not know.”
He hums, unsatisfied with the answer, but knowing to drop it. He then lies his head down in my lap, hands on his stomach, while looking up at me. “Can you tell me how you and dad met?”
A light chuckle escapes my lips, not expecting such a question after everything. “We knew each other since kids, you know that.”
“No, the story. The exact day.” He demands with a large smile.
Damn. I don’t even think I remember. “Well, Grandma Loretta and Grandma Gladys were good friends before I was born. Grandma Gladys would bring your daddy over to our house all the time. I was a baby when I first met him.” I get an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I don’t think I’ve lived a single day without knowing Elvis and it pains me to even think about another day without him again, but I guess that’s just what needs to be done.
I look up from my point of interest on the ground, jumping when I find Elvis in the doorway. I got so lost in thought, I didn’t even notice the door opened.
Charles snaps up from my lap, confused as to why I’m so startled. “Did you just see he’s here??” He asks astoundedly.
I smile, turning away in embarrassment.
Elvis chuckles, stepping in and closing the door behind him. He carefully joins us on the bed, sitting down slowly as if to wait for me to protest, but I don’t.
Charles lays down between the two of us, looking up absentmindedly to the ceiling. “When did you know you loved each other?”
My eyebrows raise. “What do you mean, baby?” I ask him, hoping to prolong the time I have to answer in front of Elvis himself.
He shrugs. “Well, people can’t make a baby without being in love. So, what’s the day you knew you wanted to have me?”
How do I get myself out of this one? I really hope that’s all he knows about how babies are made.
A few incoherent noises escape my mouth before I find words, but I still can’t stop from smiling softly at his innocence. “I was too young to remember that day I fell in love.”
Elvis smacks his lips at my phony answer. “Don’t give me that. When’s the day you knew?” He asks, suddenly very involved and intrigued in our conversation.
I cross my arms. “Well, when’s the day you knew?” I challenge right back.
He turns away in thought. “The day I was tryna teach you how to sing at Handy. You were still talkin’ to Michael, still scared about us and it drove me crazy, but I tried to give you the space you needed cause I didn’t want you not to trust me. But, my God, you looked so beautiful that night. It was the first time I felt like I truly had you to myself, like I saw a part of you no one else was allowed to see.” He takes a deep breath, pleased with his answer, before turning to me and waiting for mine.
I get so caught up in his words, I don’t even bother to think up my answer yet. I had no idea he loved me that soon.
“Well,” I start. Still thinking. “Honestly, I think the same day.”
He smacks his lips again, rolling his eyes and groaning.
“I’m serious!” I laugh, smacking him on the arm. “That’s why I panicked and tried to run off that day, because I knew I felt something serious for you. The day that I finally acknowledged it was the day of the charity concert, before the champagne, by the way.” I reassure him, earning a chuckle.
I take in a soft breath, almost feeling myself back in that moment again. “When you walked away after our fight, I felt such a deep emptiness in me that I couldn’t run from even if I tried. I knew that if I left for Chicago, that I’d never forgive myself and would spend the rest of my life searching for someone like you.”
And I was right.
I swallow, sheepishly looking up to meet his eyes. His cheeks lift into a tender smile, while he reaches out to place his hand over mine, carefully snaking his thumb under my palm so he can lift it into his grasp.
Just then, a snore interrupts our sentimental moment. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, Charles had fallen asleep. I would laugh if I didn’t feel so incredibly vulnerable in front of Elvis just now.
I take my hand from him, dropping my voice into a whisper to not wake our sleeping child. “What did you come here for? I told you we shouldn’t-”
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me in for a deep kiss to shut me up.
Oh… Well, I guess I can’t stay made at this.
“I ain’t given up on you that easily, baby. Done wasted over half my life doin’ nothin’ but wishin’ I had you. I’m not wastin’ another.” His whispers graze along my lips, his thumb across my cheek. “I’m done.” He assures me once more.
I close my eyes, resting my forehead against his. “How do I know this is real? That this is the last time we stop putzin around and finally be together?”
His eyes meet mine, lonely and longing, but ever so determined. “I can’t promise perfection, I ain’t no saint, never been.”
“I know that.” I giggle.
He smiles, licking his bottom lip. “But I can promise that you are the only one, mama. Don’t know how many times I gotta tell ya, but I’ll keep doin’ it ‘til you believe me. After all these long, long years, I’m still in love with you, always have been, always will be, You and me against the world, Bumble.”
He knows just those six words have been enough to consistently put my heart at ease.
I smile and steal another kiss from him.
“Are you two together now?”
I jump away from Elvis, holding my heart at our son’s sudden voice. I spin around, seeing him up and awake with a dubious eyebrow raised, like he never even fell asleep.
Elvis reaches for my hand once more. “Mama and I have always been together in our hearts.”
I roll my eyes with a smile. Always so cheesy.
“Good. I didn’t like having two moms.” He states, falling back into the pillows.
Elvis guiltily chuckles, stretching out and standing from his spot. “Guess I should get back. Make sure she’s signin’ them divorce papers and not tearin’ em to shreds.”
I scoff, standing up with him to follow him to the door.
As he’s about to say goodbye, something at the end of the hall catches his eyes. He stands up straight, nervously sterning up his face.
Confused, I oke my head outside the room, seeing Colonel fuming, marching towards us.
“You!” He points. “Your wife is very upset, boy. Now, I think it’s in your best interest you keep that girl happy, whether it be diamonds or not kissing other women, you better do it. In case you have forgotten, her daddy is the reason you have this show in the first place.”
“I’m divorcin’ Marcella.” He flatly lays out.
Colonel stumbles over his words, looking between us with a mix of various different emotions. “You’re not going to take a second to think about this?”
Elvis scoffs. “I been thinkin’ bout this my whole life. I only want one girl and it sure as hell ain’t her. You’ve known that from the beginning.”
Colonel’s eye twitches and I swear I see hell shine across them, the lost look in his eyes now replaced with something sinister. “Elvis, I have been with you since you were nothing but a scared little boy doing lewd gyrations on stage. You are making a big mistake.”
Elvis’ fist turns white against the red walls. “I made up my mind, Colonel. Honey and I been through hell and back, and I’m done making excuses for other people’s opinions. We’re together and ain’t nothin’ you can do about it.”
“I’ve worked too hard to keep her away, I’m not letting you throw your career away because of one foolish girl again.” He angrily taps his cane against the ground.
But Elvis pauses. “What do you mean ‘worked too hard to keep her away’?”
‘We’re lookin’ for Elvis Presley and Honey James. Be you they?’
“I tried to reason with you, but you were an immature boy, you would ignore my every call. So, I did the only thing I could do to get your to listen.”
‘Honey, I promise you I didn’t call the cops that day!’
“Colonel, what the hell are you talkin’ about?!” Elvis shouts.
‘Another colored woman locked up will have little effect on your reputation.’
My heart beats so strongly, I can feel it through my entire body.
That night.
The night that felt like the end of everything. “You called the cops.”
.
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